Monsters Inside me
by crimsongravedigger
Summary: Melissa McCall works in a mental hospital and sometimes her son Scott likes to bring her lunch or dinner. One day, Melissa meets Isaac, a new schizophrenic patient and she takes care of him. She also introduces him to Scott and they start to become friends.
1. Intro

Monsters Inside Me

_Fandom_: Teen Wolf

_Pairing_: Scott/Isaac

_Rating_: PG13

_Word Count_: 875

_Warnings_: Slash, AU.

_Summary_: Melissa McCall works in a mental hospital and sometimes her son Scott likes to bring her lunch or dinner. One day, Melissa meets Isaac, a new schizophrenic patient and she takes care of him. She also introduces him to Scott and they start to become friends.

A/N: Yay! First scisaac fic ever. This is the first chapter. Hope you like it! You can send me your opinions on tumblr, my username is crimsongravedigger.

_–_

_As soon as Isaac Andrew Lahey heard his brother Camden knocking, he knew his time was up._

_He rubbed the palms of his hands on his washed out jeans, eyes wandering from the curtains to the Marvel poster on the wall, then got up from the bed and opened the wardrobe, staring blankly at it. He chose a pair of trousers and a couple of sweaters, folded them neatly and put them inside one of the two bags on the floor. Shoes and a few books went into the other one._

_He looked around: nothing had changed. Pictures still on the corkboard. Chair at the desk. Computer was on, showing a colourful screensaver. The wall still painted red, the floor still cold, the window glass still damp and his cheeks still dry. Even the lacrosse team poster was still on the back of the door._

_He picked up the bags and turned off the lights, standing in the doorway one last time._

_"You got everything, Isaac?" __Camden smiled friendly at him, hiding the sadness that was slowly making its way through his chest._

_"You didn't pack much, why is that?" __he added, trying to start a conversation that would have been one sided anyway._

_Isaac avoided his brother's eyes and shrugged, then took the stairs down._

_The truth was that he left the room as it was because he was hoping to come back one day. To do his math homework on the bed, to sleep with the lights on, to look out the window and inhale the morning air that smelled like water._

_He rubbed his hands on his jeans once again and reached the car that was parked outside, glancing one last time at what was once his. It was hard leaving a part of himself in that house, but when the cellphone he was holding slipped out of his hands and smashed on the asphalt, he couldn't help but feel the same. Broken._

_…._

Scott woke up with his face pressed against a book. Drool stains on the page, right hand still clutching the pencil. He rubbed his eyes lazily, feeling an epic headache coming on. He tried to focus on the book to discover which subject had kept him up all night but the few words he managed to catch, like "atoms" and "molecules", were so blurry and vague he gave up entirely. It might have been chemistry just as well as history, with Christmas break on its way he barely had any willpower left, if at all.

He crawled to the bathroom and turned on the lights. Was that ink, on his face? He scratched it away, almost too harshly, then took a shower. He dressed up and pulled himself to the kitchen.

His mother, Melissa, was serving breakfast. The dark circles under her eyes not only made her look older than she was, they were also a clue indicating the kind of night she must have had. She was already wearing her scrubs and her curly hair was up in a ponytail. She put pancakes on a plate and poured more batter in the pan, smiling heartily to her son.

"Mom, did you pull an all nighter?"

Scott frowned as she nodded slowly. His pancakes were drowning in maple syrup.

"The hospital faxed me these forms", she sighed, "and they had to be filled out by this morning."

Melissa sat down at the table, holding her cup of coffee with both hands. He looked at her, then at the giant pile of paper on the cupboard nearby, which was made up by three folders and a couple of plastic files.

"What for?" he asked with his mouth full, wiping crumbs away with a napkin. Before answering, his mother took a sip of coffee.

"Looks like there will be a new patient in my ward." She got up and put the cup in the sink, then headed to the living room to get her bag and car keys. Scott reached for the first folder and started reading. It was basic patient data, such as name, surname, age, birthplace/date and so on. He turned the page while taking another bite of pancakes. It was all so boring, full of rules and regulations, until page eight. He read the first section and stopped chewing; he read the second one and his pupils dilated; he read the third one and almost choked.

"Scott, could you please bring me lunch today? I don't think I'll be home in time." Melissa took the folder from his hands and added it back to the pile before opening the front door. Scott, still fighting with the piece of pancake in his mouth, quickly waved his mother goodbye. Swallowing soundly and finally able to breathe again, he left the plate in the sink after acknowledging he had eaten enough for that morning. He climbed the stairs to go play Halo in his room. He had a sweetish taste on his tongue and his brain couldn't help but connect it to a boy named Isaac Lahey. The more he blinked, the more the words about Isaac's past flashed before his eyes.

After a while he got up from the floor and went to the bathroom to brush his teeth. Maybe he ate too much.


	2. This is madness

Monsters inside me

Beacon Hills Psychiatric Hospital, Melissa McCall's workplace, was built around the end of the 1930s in almost open country. It was a three floor building, composed of dark red bricks and surrounded by a beech forest and crops. The back garden, which was closed during winter, was tended by an old and permanently grumpy keeper. It definitely mirrored life in the hospital: the fountain in the middle didn't work, one of the white benches was broken and the flower beds were dry most of the time. A gazebo would be put up in summer, mostly for those few patients who cared about taking a breath of fresh air outside of their rooms. Curfew was at 6 p.m.

Melissa entered the hospital and greeted her coworkers. She hung both her bag and coat on the rack beside the reception desk. While turning around towards the archive room where she was about to put the folders, her brown eyes locked with blue ones. Right in the middle of the corridor stood a boy, a bit younger than Scott, who was holding a couple of neatly folded paper sheets in his hands. Two bags were on the floor, near his feet. The corners of his mouth were slightly tilted down, just like his shoulders and overall posture. Only when she noticed his rubbing-hands-on-jeans habit it became clear that he was the new patient.

"Hi there, you must be Isaac."

Melissa smiled at him and laid a hand on his shoulder. The boy nodded yet recoiled from her touch, lowering his head.

"I guess this is the list of meds you're on, right?" She took the paper sheets from his hands and started reading with interest. Antidepressants, painkillers, usual stuff. The only weird thing was the dosage, which was almost enough to knock out an elephant. How could that boy take so many heavy pills and still be able to stand?

"Follow me, I'll show you your room. Your brother Camden told me you like nature so I assigned you one with a view on the garden." Isaac lifted his bags and followed the nurse in complete silence, avoiding eye contact with the other patients. Some were laughing, some were screaming, some even tried to grab his sleeve. While walking down the corridor he crossed the sign indicating the ward he was in. It read "Psychosis".

His room looked gloomy and plain. Bed, nighstand, wardrobe and a bathroom. The floor was pearly white, as was the fabric wallpaper applied on the walls.

"I'm not going to bash my head against the wall, if that's what you're worried about..." he murmured, running his fingers on the door frame.

"It's for precaution, Isaac. We can't risk." Melissa handed him a clean pajamas and two towels with a motherly smile on her lips, then walked out of the room closing the door behind her. He was alone. Again.

He tossed the bags in a corner and kicked away his worn out shoes. It was all so unfair, he knew boys much more damaged than him and not a single one of them was stuck in a lousy hospital for crazy people. None of them had to gulp down insane quantities of pills to prevent babbling and hallucinations. Isaac wasn't mad, who did he have to convince to escape from there? He sat on the bed and embraced his legs, chin resting on his bony knees. He wanted to go home. To scream until his vocal cords bled. To overturn the bed and throw it out the window. He felt a hand brushing his curly hair, even though he was aware of being alone in the room. He looked around and out of nowhere appeared Camden, just like an illusion, smiling. Idiotically. Isaac felt tears stinging in his eyes and a knot forming down his throat.

"You abandoned me -"

Isaac's voice was hoarse and choked, as his fingernails pierced through the palm of his hand.

"You abandoned me just like mom and dad did." He cackled, but his brother remained emotionless. His brother, the only family he had left, had the guts to dump him in that hideous place. As he was about to lift an arm and slap him, he vanished. There was nothing left of him. Half an hour later, Isaac was on the floor. Pretty much like a chain reaction, the effects of the vision had started showing. He was rolling around, scratching furiously all over his body. His face, contorted with pain and anger, was hidden in his arms. The more he told himself to calm down and breathe, the more he felt panic spreading in his veins.

"I'm not crazy." Isaac's blue eyes were circled in red as bitter tears streamed down his pale cheeks. "I'm not crazy." he repeated to the nurse who came by to check on him while on her round. Upon entering the room, the woman pressed a hand against her mouth in horror.

"I'm not crazy!" he shouted. Just as he moved to stand up, Melissa McCall sticked a syringe in his neck. Then everything became black.

A/N: yay, 2nd chapter. Hope you like it! Leave a comment here or on tumblr!


	3. An ok guy

Cooking wasn't really Scott's thing. The only time he tried to whip up some pasta he ended up with a burnt hand, food in the trash and chinese takeaway. Still, he knew how much his mother loved home cooked dishes, so he rolled up his sleeves and got down to business. This time he managed to prepare a decent sandwich without setting the kitchen on fire or chopping off some fingers. The self pat on the back was definitely deserved, despite minor details such as the almost stale bread and slightly over cooked peppers. He placed the sandwich in a pretty container and put it inside a plastic bag together with a water bottle. He stepped outside, locked the front door and hopped on his bike, headed towards the hospital.

The main hall was always crowded and noisy, but during lunch hour it was like hell on earth. Nurses sprinting with their carts yelling "watch out, coming through", patients being literally dragged to the dining hall, visitors wandering around in bewilderment because they couldn't find their loved one amongst the crowd. Scott considered turning around and driving back home for a brief moment, but his mother needed lunch so he asked a doctor if he could kindly point him in the right direction to where Melissa was. After having gotten lost a couple of times, he finally reached a room which was almost as big as his own house. Tables were spread all around and patients were sitting in front of a tray filled with their lunch; some had spaghetti, others had pills as big as a finger. He spotted his mother sitting at a table not far from the door. Right next to her was this golden-haired boy, staring forward with a blank expression. Scott walked over to them and placed the bag on the plastic surface of the table. His mother turned around and her face instantly lighted up.

"Hi honey! Oh, thanks for the lunch. I'd better go hide it or someone might eat it before I do!" she said with a dazzling smile, already on her way to the reception.

Scott's stomach turned upside down. From what he had read that morning while eating breakfast, that boy definitely was the new patient. He didn't look crazy, just bored. And maybe soulless, but that wasn't important.

"Hey, I'm Scott. Your nurse is my mom." What the hell did he just say? Who was stupid enough to even consider being friends with a psychopath? Well, Scott McCall for one. He wasn't even sure he was _allowed _to speak to him, but he sat down nonetheless, looking to meet his gaze. After rummaging in his pockets for a bit, he pulled out some sweets which caught the blond boy's attention. It was in that moment that Scott noticed the contents of the tray: two pills and a glass of water.

"You want some?" The boy nodded vigorously. He reached out with a hand to take a piece of red candy but withdrew it immediately as the scratches from earlier became visible. He rubbed the palms of his hands on his trousers.

Scott put the piece of candy directly in the boy's plate, so he wouldn't have to expose himself too much.

"What's your name?" Scott tried once more, while chewing on a green one.

Isaac didn't move an inch, still rubbing his thighs anxiously. He was looking down, head buried in his shoulders, just like he was afraid to speak. Scott decided to try a different approach. He got closer to Isaac's face and fixed his eyes on a visitor nearby.

"Hey, look at that guy. He's dressed like a couch." He could have sworn he saw the corners of Isaac's mouth tilting up a hint. Maybe this was the right way to get through to him.

"And tell me if that doesn't look like a tablecloth." Raising his eyebrows, he pointed at a girl's dress. Isaac turned his head to face the girl and barely held back a smile at the sight.

"…Is that a dead mouse on that guy's head?" For the first time after his father's death, Isaac laughed. Scott labelled it a "personal victory" and mentally raised a fist in the air. Isaac's laugh was crystal clear and cheerful, like a baby's giggling. He still didn't understand how that boy ended up in the nuthouse.

"Why are you talking to me?" Isaac asked. His hands were still rubbing on his trousers, but his voice didn't sound hostile.

"You seem an ok guy." Scott handed him another piece of candy, then put an elbow on the table.

The silence that followed wasn't embarrassing. Not being able to find a topic to discuss upon first meeting someone was absolutely normal. What wasn't normal, on the other hand, was trying to be friends with an unstable person.

Melissa came back from the reception, carrying a few medical records. She was about joining the two boys when a patient stopped her halfway to ask for another serving of chicken. Isaac used the occasion to take the pills and shove them quickly inside his pocket, looking around to ensure nobody saw him.

"Don't tell them." His blue eyes turned grey. "Please, don't tell them."

As soon as Melissa managed to reach them, she took Isaac away from her son with an excuse. Just before crossing the threshold, he swiftly dropped the pills into the trash can.

"Isaac." he said, turning aroud towards Scott. To the latter's confused gaze, he replied with a smile. "My name is Isaac."

So, he wasn't crazy. _He was an ok guy_.


	4. Rose Bouquet

A couple of months passed after their first encounter. Scott learned pretty quickly that the only way to become friends with Isaac was to make him laugh. He made fun of other patients, joked about the lousy food being served, pulled comical faces, sometimes he even brought board games to kill time. Isaac seemed to have fun and enjoy his company. Scott was slowly tearing down his walls, day by day, brick by brick.

Isaac felt good. He felt normal despite all that stuff written in his case history. Still, he couldn't hide the fact that hallucinations and panic attacks were becoming more severe. He would wake up in the middle of the night and _feel_ his brother in the shadows. Closing his eyes and praying for him to go away had no effect whatsoever.

Panic attacks were less frequent but more violent and crushing. They could be brief or go on for several minutes, forcing the nurses to double the sedatives.

Lunchtime was the only bright light, one of the scarce moments of serenity during Isaac's long days. Scott alone made him feel safe. He clung to him as to an anchor, even though he had already been in deep water enough to taste the salt.

Friday was a special day to the McCalls. Particularly at lunchtime, as Melissa cooked the best lasagna in all of Beacon Hills.

"Scott, honey, you don't have to feel obliged to bring me lunch everyday. You're on vacation, you should see your friends instead of sitting at the hospital all afternoon."

The steaming plate of lasagna lost its flavor all of a sudden and instantly became just a heap of overcooked pasta and sauce. Scott had trouble swallowing the bite. He knew exactly what his mother was trying to say, albeit beating around the bush. He laid down the fork and coughed slightly.

"Stiles spends a lot of time with his dad, I don't see anything wrong with it. I like spending time with you." he shrugged.

"I wasn't talking about me, Scott." Melissa stopped eating and waited for her son to look at her.

"Isaac's influence on you can't be good, son. There's a reason he's locked there."

Isaac had become a friend. He didn't know how or why, but he felt that what they had was unique.

Scott made a habit of visiting him at lunch.

After delivering his mother's sandwich he would wander around until he found Isaac. They would sit and talk about everything. He discovered a lot about him: his favorite game was Assassin's Creed, he loved french fries and he was in the school's lacrosse team. He talked about his brother Camden a couple of times, but never about his parents. Scott knew they were both dead, he had read it his folder months earlier. He surely wasn't going to force Isaac into talking about it.

Sometimes they would sneak off into the garden, hide behind the fountain and lay there quietly until either one of them took the other's hand in his. With fingers intertwined, they would gaze at the green hills all around them, the very hills that Isaac wanted to cross. Scott would promise him that one day he'd grant his wish and take him away on his bike, but weeks passed and the hills were still there. Static. Silent. Mysterious.

Scott often talked about Allison and how in love he was. He talked about her eyes and the way they could light up a room. Isaac would always nod silently.

They weren't strangers to uneasy conversations. They discussed death, fears and worries that could lead to panic attacks. It was during these topics that Isaac would start to become agitated and scratch his trousers. Scott, determined to help him stop that habit, would take his hand and kiss it, causing a smile on his face.

"We're friends."

"He's unstable."

"But he's a friend of mine, mom. He trusts me."

"Scott, I work with patients like him on a daily basis. I can assure you they are all broken. No one ever came back."

The lasagna had already grown cold. Scott rubbed his hand on his jeans and that gesture inevitably reminded him of Isaac. He got up from the chair and cleared the table.

Melissa sighed and managed to stop his son right before he could seek refuge in his room.

"Where do you think you're going?"

"Isaac is waiting for me. Today is friday, as in the only day he's allowed out. He asked me to take him some place."

A slammed door marked the end of the lunch. Melissa covered her face with a hand and closed her eyes, trying to ignore the rumbling bike in the distance.

Isaac couldn't keep still. He was walking up and down his room nervously, teeth biting his lower lip. He glanced at the pajamas on his bed and the mere thought of wearing it again tore him apart. After putting on his black coat, he reached over to the nightstand and grabbed the rose bouquet that the nurse ordered for him. Roses were truly beautiful, too bad they died so quickly.

The clock struck four o'clock. Scott still wasn't there. Isaac plopped down on the bed, looking at his worn out All Star. Maybe it was time to buy some new shoes.

"I'm so sorry Isaac! I tried to make it on time but Allison needed a ride, so…"

Right, Allison. Isaac knew everything there was to know about her. He nodded and followed his friend to the exit. He couldn't afford to complain. She was his girlfriend, he was only a friend. An unstable one. Giving top priority to love wasn't wrong, he might have done the same.

They didn't use the bike; that place wasn't far from the hospital and they both felt like walking. The white sky covered Beacon Hills like a frozen blanket. The biting wind made them shiver but did not stop them.

"Thank you. For everything."

"It's ok, Isaac. We're friends."

Scott shrugged nonchalantly and looked over at Isaac, who had been staring at him for quite a while.

"Something wrong?"

"No, no, everything alright."

The iron gate was open and the keeper was sweeping the steps. They greeted him with a nod, which he reciprocated. Isaac was moving forward confidently, almost as if he was familiar with the place. Scott decide to stop and give him some privacy. The blond boy sat on the grass and removed some leaves from the marble stone. He cleared his throat and looked at the picture in front of him.

"I made a friend, mom. His name is Scott. He's my age and his mom is a beautiful nurse. She takes care of me. I think Camden hates me. He had the nerve to lock me up, mom. In the nuthouse. Do I look insane? I know you wouldn't have permitted it. You would have kept me in your arms and comforted me, as only you knew how. Are you ok there? What about dad, does he still smoke more than he should?"

Isaac's voice broke like the tiniest branch of a tree. He raised his head and observed the clouds but no answer came from the sky. He waited for a couple of minutes, then spoke again.

"I'm alright, mom. Really, I am. I bet you would have liked Scott. I don't know, maybe dad would have liked him too. He was always so strict. Is he strict up there with you?"

Still no answer.

"It's just that I miss you both so much. I hope you like the roses."

The wind brushed his cheek and moved the leaves that were around him. The picture of his parents was motionless and would always have been so. He got up from the ground and left the rose bouquet by the headstone, smiling with tears in his eyes. He blinked twice then started walking towards his friend, avoiding his look. He felt like crap. He just wanted to go home and lock himself up in his room.

Before they could step out of the cemetery, the keeper motioned Isaac to stop.

"Your mother is the prettiest woman around here, if it's any consolation."

The old man's face was friendly but veiled in unspeakable sadness. He pitied Isaac. The boy nodded and smiled at him gratefully.

"Yeah. Yeah, she is."


	5. Breaking Bones

The short trip to the cemetery slowly became a habit. Every Friday Scott would peek into Isaac's room and watch him pick up the usual rose bouquet from the nightstand. They would walk up to the gate and greet the keeper, then Scott would stop and step aside, waiting for his friend.

"Come. I want to introduce you to my parents."

Scott felt his heart instantly break and melt, at the same time. He was happy to have become part of Isaac's family, even though it was literally half dead.

They both sat down in front of the marble stone, hand in hand, waiting silently for words that were never going to be spoken. Yet Isaac was completely peaceful, his eyes sparkling with clarity and depth like the bluest of seas. Scott couldn't help but stare at those cobalt puddles, completely unaware of the fact that one day, sooner or later, he was going to drown in them.

He remembered of the couple of coins that Isaac once put on the stone, while explaining to him that thanks to those, his parents could keep on living with dignity even in heaven. It was an old custom and he intended to keep it alive for as long as possible. The coins weren't even enough to make up a dollar. Scott digged in his pockets and pulled out three dollars.

"I think your parents deserve these."

Isaac simply smiled and nodded.

While on their way out, Scott stopped to exchange a few words with the keeper. Isaac turned around for a brief moment, just to see his mother leaning on her own tombstone, smiling at him. He had already seen her many times, every time painful as the first. _"Is he the one?" _whispered the woman. He shook his head. Scott could never be the one. There was someone between them, someone Isaac could never compete against.

_Allison_.

The date was on a particularly cold Saturdaty, at two o'clock. Allison leaned against the brick wall and looked at her shoes. Lydia insisted to help with the process of choosing what to wear and even did her hair and make up. They went for a knee-length white dress, black pumps and a simple cardigan. She looked like a porcelain doll.

There was this new movie at the theaters that everybody seemed to love, so she asked Scott to take her to see it. Little he knew that the movie was only an excuse. Allison wanted to try and pick up the pieces of their relationship, even though she wasn't too positive about the result. Mostly, she wanted explanations. Scott had stopped listening to her all of a sudden and had started talking about this new friend he made at the hospital, about how unlucky he was and how much he loved french fries. He spent most of his free time with that boy instead of being with her, his _girlfriend_. Why was he so distant and detached? He didn't even notice Allison's new haircut. Was it possible for them to hang out together without him mentioning Isaac?

"Scott, are you even watching the movie?"

"Uh? What?"

"Are you watching the movie?"

"Of course I am, don't worry." he replied, eyes fixed on the bottom right angle of the screen.

That was the last straw. She stood up from her seat and stormed out of the theater. Scott followed her frantically.

"Allison, what's the problem?"

"What is _your_ problem! You're always distracted, you're never listening, you answer with monosyllables and you always talk about that lunatic!"

"Isaac is not a lunatic!"

Scott raised his voice, offended by the remark.

"Well you know what, Scott? I couldn't care less. I don't need you."

"God, Allison… You're not making any sense with - "

"I get it, okay? I know you'd rather spend your days with him than with me, that you have feelings for him and that most likely he has feelings for you too."

Tears started running down Allison's cheeks, words dying in her throat.

"But it's alright, because honestly I don't feel what I used to anymore. Isaac needs you, I don't."

Scott thought about saying something smart, but there were no words that could heal the bleeding wound. As much as he loved her, he had to admit that he had grown fond of Isaac in a way he didn't think possible. He just wanted to make them both happy, why did it all have to be so complicated?

"It's better this way, trust me."

"Can we at least remain friends, Allison?"

She smiled wearily and kissed him on the cheek, nodding slowly before turning away to leave. Had she stayed a minute longer, her knees wouldn't have carried her - and the weight of the world that had just crashed down on her.

Scott threw himself on the bed like a heap. He looked for his cellphone and dialed Allison's number, but the call went straight to voicemail. As usual. It was after the eighth attempt that he gave up and went back to his history notes, trying to study for the upcoming exam. He didn't even open a single book during Christmas break and now he had to deal with the aftermaths.

His mind kept on wandering, going back to the breakup. Maybe Allison was right. Maybe he was really spending too much time with Isaac. Maybe the glances and the hand-touching implied something deeper. He couldn't deny that he was attracted to him, even though it hurt like hell.

He needed time to process everything. He needed to sort out what he wanted. Did he want to stay with Allison and attempt to make it work between them once again or did he want to try fixing Isaac by being close to him and taking on his issues?

In the end he fell asleep with a textbook on his face.

The only way out was to stop seeing both. He wouldn't go out with Allison anymore and he would stop visiting Isaac at the hospital. By doing so he thought he could finally understand who was more important to him.

Obviously, that was the _worst_ choice of his life.


	6. Collapse

It was a snowy morning in Beacon Hills. The sun's warmth was hindered by the chilly breeze which crept through the streets. Isaac woke up early but stayed in bed, staring at the white scenery outside. The dry grass, the bare trees, the benches, everything was covered in pure white.

A couple of days earlier he had received a brown package and a letter. He decided to open the package first, leaving the letter for later. Upon unwrapping it, Camden's dog tags appeared. He wore them proudly and asked the nurse to light a candle in his place. Some of the patients offered their condolences. Isaac was a good boy, he even managed not to cry. He never opened the letter though, just plain burned it.

He didn't give a damn about the general's excuses, nothing he might have written would have brought Camden back.

Still staring at the snow, he thought about his upcoming birthday and the big cake that the hospital cooks promised to bake for him. He glanced over at the little Christmas tree that Scott had given him as a present. It was nicely decorated and all covered in bright lights. He had chosen to place it on the nightstand because he wanted it to be the first thing to appear in front of his eyes in the morning.

His room had changed a lot ever since Scott stepped into his world. A few days before going back to the army, Camden brought over to the hospital all the posters and pictures that Isaac had on his old room's walls, including the lacrosse team poster. After having put everything up on the bare walls of his hospital room, Isaac had felt at home for the first time in months. He was definitely proud of his job.

His favorite time of the day remained lunch, mainly because of Scott. The boy who liked making fun of other patients. The friend that would take his hand in his own while sitting behind the fountain. The kindest and most thoughtful human being he had ever met. His new family.

He trotted happily to the dining hall with these warm thoughts in mind, only to discover that their table was taken by an old woman wearing a wig. He decided to sit near the window to gaze at the view.

"Good afternoon Mr. Lahey. Today's special is cauliflower soup."

"Cauliflower soup with a side of pills…"

The nurse smiled and left the tray in front of the boy. Isaac grabbed the spoon and dived it in, sneaking a peek at the clock. 12:30. Scott was late.

By 4 p.m. he made up his mind and left the room.

This went on for three days. Three days of agony and mind movies.

On the fourth day the nurse handed him the usual green slop and pills. He waited until half past three but Scott was nowhere to be seen.

The soup had grown cold and salty like the tears that had fallen into the plate. He felt an extreme need to scratch and pinch his skin, slowly but steadily. He wanted it to hurt and bleed. Where did he go wrong? Did he say or do something awful to deserve all that pain? Scott's reassuring words echoed in his mind.

_"You know, you should stop scratching."_

_"Well… It's like I asked you to stop breathing."_

_"You could always try to do something else."_

_"Like what?"_

_"Imagine you're holding my hand. Here, imagine our hands glued together."_

_"It sounds a bit stupid, to be honest…"_

_"Just do it. It'll work, I promise."_

Isaac looked at his hands. He looked at them and thanked God because without faith he might have choked himself. He pushed the tray aside, making it fall on the floor. The loud noise rumbled in his head and everything became blurry. He felt like a broken doll left on a dusty shelf.

Someone tried to help him up but it was useless. He threw up on the table and started shaking uncontrollably. Melissa's voice reached his ears but he couldn't answer, his tongue paralyzed and his brain dead. He needed Scott but he wasn't there. He should have seen it coming. After all, nice things were probably out of stock and bad things were all that was left for him.

A nurse strapped an IV to his arm, as usual. He heard someone curse and felt sorry for the poor man or woman. He knew that mopping up puke wasn't exactly fun.

Melissa McCall returned home two hours late, starving. Her shift would normally be over at 7 p.m., but the nurse who was in charge of Isaac was sick, so she had to take care of him. She had to make sure that the panic attack was over and that he took all of the meds the doctor had prescribed. As soon as he fell asleep, she left. Upon arriving at home, she tossed her coat on the sofa. Noticing the light in the kitchen was still on, she walked towards the switch to turn it off, but froze halfway. Scott was making dinner. He was cutting some vegetables, kitchen cloth on his shoulder, an eye on the pan to check the steak. Melissa got nearer his son and saw his tired face. He kept on rubbing his eyes and drinking glasses full of water, while glancing at his mother's recipe book. Maybe the breakup with Allison left him upset, or maybe he was worried about the upcoming exam, but what he did afterwards was too familiar to pass as random. He rubbed the palm of his hands on his pants. Three times.

It was in that precise moment that Melissa understood what really counted to Scott.

"Darling, thanks for the dinner." She hugged him tight.

"Mom, I can't stop doing it."

Scott's voice was broken and hoarse. His hands couldn't stop moving up and down the fabric of his jeans.

"Shh, it's ok." Melissa decided to omit the detail of Isaac's panic attack. She didn't want to further alarm him.

"It's like he's a part of me now, mom. I can't let him go."

"It's alright honey, I think I know what must be done." With a big knot in her throat, she uttered the words that made Scott's heart tremble.

"You should go back to the hospital."


	7. Present

Isaac could feel Camden's eyes on him. He could hear him breath slowly, in the back of the room, hidden in the shadows that filled the empty spaces. He took a deep breath and decided to stop running away. He didn't pray for his brother's shadow to disappear, he didn't cry bitter tears hoping they could exorcise his spirit. He just sat on the bed and looked at him, staring until the sunlight started to penetrate the curtains. He smiled sadly and his heart skipped a beat when Camden smiled back at him, eyes fixed on the dog tags he was wearing. His brother's ghost had responded for the very first time.

Right at that moment, like always, the room lit up and Camden vanished, leaving Isaac with an icy feeling in his bones that pretty much felt like a hug.

It was his birthday. He was about to turn 18 and all he wanted was for his wish to be granted.

He thought about the cake and his stomach roared in response. He got off the bed and walked barefoot to the window, stubbornly hoping for Scott's bike to appear. Feeling discouraged as usual, he turned around and entered the bathroom to brush his teeth and freshen up a bit. Some toothpaste ended up on his white and blue dotted pajamas.

He changed quickly and ran down to the dining hall, eager to taste the cake that the cooks had baked for him. As soon as he opened the glass door, dozens of balloons and a storm of confetti enveloped him. He smiled like a fool and burst into a laugh, without even paying attention to all the glitter that ended up in his hair. He looked over at the banner that read "Happy Birthday", the same one the staff used for every birthday, and he felt like he couldn't contain the joy in his heart. He hugged all the nurses and all the patients that had participated - at least the sanest ones.

The cake was finally brought over. Someone broke out into the usual, embarrassingly cheesy birthday song and everybody happily joined in. Isaac blew the candles, making the only wish he could think of.

The presents included a colorful photo frame, a crochet book, wool gloves and some sweets.

Not wanting to leave them on a random table, he excused himself out of the dining hall and headed over to his room. The door was already open. He looked around suspiciously and spotted a gift box on the floor, just beside the bed. He picked it up and shook it, trying to guess the content, then ripped the wrapping off. It was a midnight blue scarf. He wore it immediately, inhaling the sweet scent. There was a card attached to the box.

_Happy 18th birthday! I hope you like the gift. Sorry I haven't been able to visit you these days, I just had to set a couple of things straight._

_ Scott xoxo_

He put the card on the nightsand. Did Scott really buy him a present and write those things or was it just Melissa being sympathetic?

He didn't care. That soft scarf with its cute plaited ends was his favourite gift and he would proudly show it to his mother on his next visit to the cemetery.

Denying the obvious was no use: he missed Scott to death. He felt like the hole inside of him was getting bigger and slowly eating him up. The more he thought about it, the more the discomfort increased. Ten minutes with him would have been just enough for one last hug or at least to properly say goodbye.

Everything was so unfair. His life was unfair. He deserved a speck of happiness after all the grief and despair he went through. Isaac was alive. He felt alive.

He also felt lonely, and everybody knows that loneliness is misery.

"You should be partying with the others."

Melissa smiled at him from the doorway.

"Scott brought me a gift and I didn't even manage to thank him…"

The young boy's voice was full of sadness and regret.

"I have a gift for you as well, Isaac."

Melissa stepped aside and her son appeared from behind her. Isaac's face was instantly transfigured by a thousand different emotions, simultaneousy exploding inside his stomach like fireworks.

He dropped the box, wrapped his arms around Scott and hid his face on his shoulder.

Some tears fell from his eyes but he didn't give a damn.

Scott slowly ran his fingers through the boy's curls, still holding him tight.

Isaac began sobbing. When he raised his head to meet Scott's glance, Camden's transparent figure caught his eyes. He saw him smile and lift both of his thumbs up, then become one with the air.

"I missed you, Isaac."

"I missed you too, Scott."

That was the last time he ever saw his brother's ghost.

May was rose month. Flower shops would display lots of glistening bouquets and colorful compositions, but Isaac always went for the red rose posy. His mom loved red roses.

The air smelled like fresh cut grass and rays of light shimmered on the tombstones.

The keeper adjusted his hat, greeting the young man with the usual friendly nod.

Isaac had cut his curls and renewed his wardrobe. He had grown at least two inches taller, reaching the towering height of six feet two. His jawbone had become sharp as glass and his eyes turned a lighter shade of blue.

Isaac had developed into an adult. He was 27 years old and he felt the will to live of a child.

He sat on the ground and started wiping his parents' marble tombstone with a cloth.

"Hi mom, hi dad. Are you ok?"

He put the cloth back inside the plastic bag.

"I brought chrysanthemums for Camden. Is he there with you?"

Pause.

"Thanks for everything. I mean it."

He twisted a blade of grass between his fingers, hearing a bike roar in the distance.

He got up and fixed his coat. The biker was standing beside the cemetery gates.

"I must go now. He's waiting for me."

He turned around one last time before leaving but there were no ghosts near the stone. There was nothing. Emptiness.

"I'm fine, mom. I'm fine."

Isaac smiled as Scott took his hand, kissing its back like in the old days.

Isaac was finally fine.


End file.
